http://slow.writerscafe.org/GirlWhoCouldFly The original writings of author Jane en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776010878 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 A sort of performance-piece poem... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/GirlWhoCouldFly/330189/ What I remember about a friend of mine, before he got all messed up. Enjoy, you schadenfreuders. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/GirlWhoCouldFly/314741/ For my friend Adam, who is a wonderful writer and has had an interesting childhood, or lack of one. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/GirlWhoCouldFly/286086/  The lamp post, the spark of light that we stood under and kissed and the sirens that rushed past as we followed with ice cream dripping down our fingers. And as we stopped at the old Victorian house and watched them carry a corpse from the flames, you held me from behind and I di.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/GirlWhoCouldFly/286085/ I read palms sometimes. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/GirlWhoCouldFly/286084/ Note: Meghan is just a character I created. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/GirlWhoCouldFly/286083/ another assignment http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/GirlWhoCouldFly/286082/ For a friend who may or may not still be in Iraq. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/GirlWhoCouldFly/286081/  He sits at the piano, foot tapping his life story in music. Light reflects off his baldness, off the keys he caresses like he is moving through water, left hand tapping out a pulsing chord like the noise of the heart’s continuous, insistent beating. He will never stop. .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/GirlWhoCouldFly/286080/ I watched a flamenco show and it was amazing! http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/GirlWhoCouldFly/286078/  He is anything but forgettable. You say you don’t really care that he passes you by, but you can’t stop thinking about how he left you with his guitar (Hold this, I’ll be right back) and you stood there for five minutes, sat there for fifteen and wished people wou.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/GirlWhoCouldFly/286077/ I've always been obsessed with the idea that we never really know our parents. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/GirlWhoCouldFly/286076/ another assignment. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/GirlWhoCouldFly/286073/ a self-portrait of sorts http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/GirlWhoCouldFly/286072/  June’s body remembers mornings when she slept until ten, comforter pulled over her head and late for school because she pretended, wanted, to be sick. Mother never spoke of mornings like that, or of the nights before, the fear, the pulsating empty heartbeats. June’s bod.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/GirlWhoCouldFly/286071/  There is a moment when the car skids, and suddenly there is no world to go back to. In this instant, the shattering glass sends sparks flying around the car. They ricochet off the windows, the metal, her flying red hair and collide with the grate of steel on concrete, the sound.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/GirlWhoCouldFly/286070/  There’s not much to tell. You sit in the grass, maybe a joint, as beside you Steven snaps one flower head after another. You watch him play guitar, hands meant more for music than for daisy chains, or your poetry. He hates poetry; music, its other half, is missing. .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/GirlWhoCouldFly/286069/ about my neighbor's cat http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/GirlWhoCouldFly/286067/ from a writing assignment at summer camp http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/GirlWhoCouldFly/286065/  Go ahead, ask me about unrequited love and Shakespearean angst. I should know; I work at one a.m. in the loading bay of a Save-A-Lot and stack boxes alone. The delivery men leave for an hour or two and when they get back the truck is empty and the cans of soup are lined up in nea.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/GirlWhoCouldFly/286063/  Moonlight spills onto the balcony, the red apple half-encircled by the pale arm of eclipse. The red-gold light pools on the carved white railing so thick that you could scoop it off, put it in a jar, and keep it forever.  I got that jar when I was five. There used to be th.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/GirlWhoCouldFly/286062/  You can’t face the funeral,so you are sitting on your bed and flipping through the record that skips and skips until you have something interesting to say; journal entries dated April 24, May 8, then June 2-3-4 and one continuous blob of writing.  There is nothing el.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/GirlWhoCouldFly/286060/ A reply to my poem "To A Dead Pigeon," from the pigeon's point of view. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/GirlWhoCouldFly/277422/ I was bored! http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/GirlWhoCouldFly/276258/ Winter comes softly--A girl's face superimposedover snowy mountains. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/GirlWhoCouldFly/274737/  There is a vase of flowers.Black-and-white film makes the red roses Almost indistinguishable from the yellow walls.The only color you can identify is the white dress, the girlWho sits on the sofa, mouth open in terrorOf some otherworldly beast.Bad technology showcases the tall, h.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/GirlWhoCouldFly/273870/ 6 words- for a contest. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/GirlWhoCouldFly/270348/ from an assignment to 'write your own obituary.' http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/GirlWhoCouldFly/268720/ White.     A blank page.Blue     lines like tears, college rule.Black     ink colored night                      &nbsp.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/GirlWhoCouldFly/267650/ mirrors, and eyes, and blood, and all that good stuff. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/GirlWhoCouldFly/267649/  she unties the knot,allows the boat to drift free. on the violet oceanshe floatswith closed eyesrather than seehim. faces watch her gosadness etcheddeep,until she is out of sight. in the skystars pour cold lightover her bodyand ignitein her .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/GirlWhoCouldFly/267645/  I said those wordsto hurt younot on purpose. I tried to put them backbut they had growntoo bigunstoppable. They slip into the waterand swim away.  Even after eonsthey creep up behindand steal. The words areno longer mine. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/GirlWhoCouldFly/267644/ My creative writing teacher asked us to write a poem about our names... Maria is my middle name. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/GirlWhoCouldFly/267643/ 100 words--- again!!! http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/GirlWhoCouldFly/267306/ 100 words more! http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/GirlWhoCouldFly/267304/ Another 100-word story! http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/GirlWhoCouldFly/267303/ Another 100 word story! http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/GirlWhoCouldFly/267302/ 100 word story! http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/GirlWhoCouldFly/267301/ in memory of J. H. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/GirlWhoCouldFly/267298/ Putting myself out there. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/GirlWhoCouldFly/267287/  We shine like stars when we dance,Bodies too close circling around the bonfire With the music throbbing in our ears, controlling our heartbeatsWhispering to us the melody that was in our souls all along,Let go, relax, just danceAnd we spiral around the bonfire and leave behind the .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/GirlWhoCouldFly/267286/  We are not criminals,only victimsof a choicenot ours, and not our faultthough we place the blameon anyone but youand tell ourselves,we caused your pain. They call us survivorsbut we are barely hanging on.We make it our life’s workto heal over.&nb.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/GirlWhoCouldFly/267284/ I found a dead bird! http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/GirlWhoCouldFly/267283/ That song is too depressing- I alway thought being ephemeral was kind of a good thing. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/GirlWhoCouldFly/267023/ Just a prose piece. I was speculating about me and a friend of mine (josh) and this is what I came out with. Enjoy! http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/GirlWhoCouldFly/267017/ This is taken from a longer play. Imagine for a minute I'm your college geography teacher. I'm a guy, about 5'10", brown hair, thin. I've been getting real stressed out lately in my personal life, and showing up to class drunk. Enjoy! http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/GirlWhoCouldFly/266579/ Amalgam, n. a mental combination of things, people, experiences presented as one. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/GirlWhoCouldFly/266555/  All gardens die.Trees wither like gnarled hands,Flowers brown and rot and forgotten apples line the paths.There’s only one path in and out of Eden,And it’s dusty, littered with the shriveled leaves of the mind.Knowledge is not a glamorous thing.We emerged from imagina.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/GirlWhoCouldFly/266551/ The clock ticks away (tick-tock tick-tock,        life disappears one instant at a time)stops where it began:SQUARE ONE,where we’re supposed to open upand get those feelings off our chest(you know,        &nb.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/GirlWhoCouldFly/266327/ About a friend. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/GirlWhoCouldFly/266323/